


'Til There's No One Left Who Has Ever Known Us Apart

by lizimajig



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fitzsimmons Secret Valentine, Fluff, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 08:31:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3350162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizimajig/pseuds/lizimajig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz surprises Simmons.<br/><i>"Jemma." The sound of her name and his small, nervous smile stopped her then. "It's -- look." He motioned.</i></p><p>
  <i>"Fitz, it's -- " She looked around the lab. Lights dimmed, workspaces untouched but tidy, nothing out of place aside from the fact that the lab was empty at three o'clock in the afternoon. On a second look, she saw the twine that was strung along the far wall, where various schematics and scribbled notes for projects could normally be found. Currently, they were hung with papers of another kind.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Til There's No One Left Who Has Ever Known Us Apart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [multifandomcircusfreak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/multifandomcircusfreak/gifts).



> My FitzSimmons Valentine exchange for [losingfitzsimmons](http://losingfitzsimmons.tumblr.com) YAY I HOPE YOU LIKE IT??
> 
> Title from "The Next Ten Minutes" from the musical The Last Five Years which I have been listening to obsessively since the soundtrack was released on Tuesday.

It was the middle of the afternoon already, and Jemma had lost track of how many push ups she'd done and miles she'd run with Skye -- outside the base on the deer paths, even! Though she had been willing to give her friend the benefit of the doubt previously, the second time Skye pretended not to hear her when she not-so-subtly stated she was ready to be done for the day, she knew something was up. At least the yoga cool down had been somewhat relaxing, even if she was sore. 

"Sorry. I'm out," she finally told Skye as she dropped out of downward-facing dog pose and pulled her t-shirt down where it had ridden up around her midriff. 

"What? No!" Skye said hurriedly, standing up as well. "I mean. You have to finish the cool down, you'll be sore and everything and not want to get back at it later." 

"Skye," Jemma replied, firmly and as nicely as she could, "reassessments for field clearance aren't for another two and a half months. And the tech requirements are different from those of operations. You suggested that change yourself. Remember?"

Skye at least had the grace to look chastised. "... I just really want you to pass," she tried, almost making it a question.

Jemma was unmoved. "I told Fitz I'd be in the lab ages ago, I'm surprised he hasn't come looking -- and now I've been sweating all day, I'll have to take a shower, by the time I get there -- " 

"Maybe you should take Fitz with you," Skye said with a suggestive waggle of eyebrows.

"Skye!"

"Oh come on, everyone knows you do it. It's the reason Lance got Fitz that novelty 'Save Water, Shower Together' door sign."

"That doesn't mean it's appropriate to talk about!" Jemma felt her face flush, not from exertion this time. She paused. "... Don't turn this around on me, I'm leaving," she finished.

"Jemma, wait!" She did stop, but the chirp of Skye's phone distracted her for just a moment. She read whatever text she had received, and her face split into a grin. "Never mind. Happy showering!" she said cheerfully.

Skye was acting strange today. More than her humor usually made her. Jemma turned to leave, heading for the lab, to find Fitz and at least see if he maybe knew what was up with Skye today. And the joint shower didn't sound like a bad idea, either.

"Fitz!" she called as she advanced down the corridor near the lab. No answer, which she hadn't really been expecting, but neither was there sound of any kind floating out to meet her. Between the machinery and number of technicians who scuttled around in there on a daily basis (and the occasional strains of some godawful, screaming rock music from the headphones of that one phlebotomy guy) there were nearly always sounds of a working lab and the people in it to be heard in this hallway. Now it was as silent as a tomb.

"Fitz?" she repeated uncertainly, opening the door to the eerie quiet.

"Jemma!" He was just to her right, the right of the door, and she jumped at his answer. "Sorry -- bloody hell, that was quick -- "

"I would have been here ages ago, I swear, but Skye -- "

"Jemma." The sound of her name and his small, nervous smile stopped her then. "It's -- look." He motioned.

"Fitz, it's -- " She looked around the lab. Lights dimmed, workspaces untouched but tidy, nothing out of place aside from the fact that the lab was empty at three o'clock in the afternoon. On a second look, she saw the twine that was strung along the far wall, where various schematics and scribbled notes for projects could normally be found. Currently, they were hung with papers of another kind -- drawings and pictures, captioned in Fitz's angular scrawl. Her stomach suddenly flipped, like taking the large drop at the beginning of a roller coaster. "Fitz, what's going on?"

His smile grew and he grabbed her hand. She had no choice but to follow as he pulled her gently behind him, to the far left of the board. "Start here," he instructed her, situating her firmly in front of the first event which read, _19 August 1984: Fitz born in Glasgow, Scotland, UK._ Just to the right was the second, _11 September 1984: Jemma born in Sheffield, England, UK._

Accompanying hers was a familiar photograph, or a print of it; the same picture had hung in the sitting room at her parents' house as long as she could remember. In contrast, Fitz's was illustrated by a cartoon, curly-haired baby tightly swaddled save for an arm which was waving the Scottish national flag. She laughed. "No embarrassing baby pictures of you?" she said.

"That is embarrassing compared to every -- I was angelic. Besides, this isn't about me," he protested, and she shook her head, trying not to laugh again. "Keep going, Jem."

"All right, all right," she said, moving along to _11 September 1988: Jemma's first chemistry set._ "Ohh!" The picture was pretty representative of what that fourth birthday had been like. It showed Jemma already tearing into her chemistry set while the cake sat untouched a few feet away. "... I'm not even sure I ate any of that cake," she admitted.

"Bloody typical," he teased her fondly, and she nudged him and moved on to _3 September 1989: Jemma's first day of school,_ pictured in her plaid skirt, navy sweater, and double plaits, ready for her foray into academia. Many events followed, like her first prize entry into the science fair the next year, and taking her GSCEs and A-levels at eleven and twelve, and entering university soon after. Some events referring to him, like _Dismantled and rebuilt television set, thus avoiding mum's wrath_ at age eight were included, with more cartoony doodles (or, in one case, an actual picture of a skinny preteen Fitz giving the camera a look of such annoyance that she laughed). 

"Fitz, this is amazing," she said, glancing toward him. He was bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet and had since let go of her hand to wring his hands as unobtrusively as possible. All signs of mounting anxiety. "What's wrong?"

"No! No, I mean -- nothing. Jemma, nothing." _Maybe. Yet,_ hung in the air, unsaid. "Just... please? Keep on?"

She reached out and took his hand away from worrying his other. "All right," she said, right in front of _3 September 2002: First day of SHIELD Academy._ This one featured a sketch of the SHIELD eagle, with the cartoon Fitz on one side and a cartoon of presumably herself on the other. The footnote read, _4 September: Fitz begins the search to find something clever to say to impress Jemma._

"Oh Fitz," she sighed, squeezing his hand, but moved on. _13 January 2003: Paired together for chemistry. 16 January 2003: Fitz makes Jemma laugh for the first time. 17 January 2003: Best friends._

She couldn't keep herself from rushing anymore, and went through the next years in a dash. Graduation, their first design to reach distribution, leaving SciOps for the Bus, even the pod incident ("Fitz finally opens his mouth about being in love with Jemma"), first kiss, and... other firsts (" _Fitz!_ " she hissed, cheeks pinking while he grinned). The last was today's date with a big black question mark: _5 August 2016: Fitz has a question._

Jemma felt her jaw drop quite indecorously, but she couldn't close it. She looked back at him, his nerves showing beneath the determined expression on his face, and she knew what the question was. "Fitz, no!"

His face fell for a moment. "No?"

"No, I mean. I'm -- look!" She motioned to herself. "I'm in work out clothes, my hair is a mess, I've been sweating all day, at least let me shower -- "

"You're beautiful."

It was amazing, how he could still her breath like that with just a few words; though she knew it wasn't so much the words themselves as it was the emotion behind it and how entirely she knew he felt it. Others could make the words sound cheap and empty, but not Fitz. To him, it was a fact and he stated it as easily as he might the first law of motion. "Okay," she agreed quietly, and tried to wait patiently.

"I tried -- I tried write, writing down what I wanted to... to say. Things that I wanted to tell you before I asked." His ability to speak was still sometimes impaired, short stops and gaps occurring in times of stress or emotion. Jemma had adjusted her habit of finishing his sentences, becoming mindful of when doing so was helpful and when it would add more frustration. "That I love you, and you're the smartest... person I know, and beautiful and -- but it... it was a pretty long list and we -- we've been friends for so long, that... that... I had to figure you... um, you would..."

His glance became more troubled and asked for help. "That I... already knew?" she guessed. 

"Yes." All the tension left his shoulders, and he smiled.

Jemma smiled back. "I do know," she told him. "And I love you, too." She was full to the brim with it. "What did you want to ask, Fitz?"

"Oh," he started. "Yes. Jemma -- no, wait, I have... have this." He dug in his breast pocket, and pulled out a ring, a slim band with a row of impossibly tiny diamonds. She couldn't help it, she gasped when she saw it. "It's just my grandmum's, you can... we can get a different one, if you want -- "

"Fitz it's beautiful shut up and ask the question already." She nearly squeaked as she rushed to get all that out around the "yes" that was racing to leave her mouth.

There was a heart-stopping moment of silence, then, "Jemma. Would you marry me?"

As it was, he barely finished before she said, "Yes," and took his face in her hands to kiss him firmly on the mouth.

His body went slack with relief against hers, an arm around her back. His smile fit against hers and for a moment, it was perfect. She eventually broke away enough to breathe, and had to ask, "My god, Fitz, how long did this take you?"

"Oh. Hours to do, weeks of planning. I had help. Skye, mostly -- "

"That explains the sudden penchant for physical fitness," she said under her breath.

" -- and your dad was really helpful with the family photos," Fitz added.

"Of course he was." She shook her head. "I spoke to him a few days ago, he didn't say anything!"

"Obviously not. He was under strict orders." Fitz chortled. "Also, he's far better at lying than you are."

"Watch it."

His grin was infectious; it widened and she couldn't help but respond in kind. "Here," he said suddenly, as though remembering he still held the ring. "Do you want to -- or should I -- ?" He motioned. She responded by holding out her hand, and he slid it on to the correct finger. 

Her breath left her in a rush; it was one of the moments where time felt slower, but in the good way. "I love you so much," she told him quietly, letting it well up inside her again. Sometimes she was afraid he'd never know how much, no matter what she said or did.

She needn't have worried quite so much. "I know." He kissed her again, more gently this time. "Now go shower, you'll have the lab smelling like a sock," he teased her.

"Fitz!" He laughed at her outburst, but all she could do then was smile sweetly back. "I was actually thinking you might like to join me?"

His laughter came to a grinding halt, and he got that slightly bewildered look that happened every time she felt a little "frisky," as Skye would say, and initiated. "Oh. That would be, uh. Yeah. I mean. If you want," he stammered out, trying to sound casual.

"I do. Very much," she said, holding on to him by the front of his shirt and slowly backing him towards the door. "After all. 'Save Water, Shower Together.' It's the responsible thing to do, really." 

"Couldn't agree more," he replied firmly, taking her with him. "After all. It's... green, and... en-environ... mentally... oh bloody hell, come on," he said, turning to lead her out at a quicker speed. She laughed, pulled along by her newly made husband-to-be.


End file.
